


Witch Cops

by TheJollyPiplup



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Altean lance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Cuban Lance, Lance gets amnesia, M/M, The Gangs All Here, This is probably a mess and I'm sorry, Vampire Shiro, Witch Allura, Witch Coran, Witch Lance, Witches and Wizards, untrustworthy update times, vampire keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2018-11-14 00:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11196231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJollyPiplup/pseuds/TheJollyPiplup
Summary: After an accident, 17 year old Lance McClain finds out that he is an Altean, an elite group of Witch and Wizard warriors with the goal of protecting humanity from the supernatural. With his memories of his past life erased, Lance and his new teammates are ready to fight whatever comes their way! Besides, it's not like his past life was any more interesting? Right?Otherwise known as: the Shadowhunters AU that no one asked for





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, turns out I felt like causing great pain to myself over the summer by writing two fics at the same time! But you know what? Voltron is worth it! I promise to the few hundred or so people who actually read my other fic that right after I post this fic, I'll work on getting Ash some screentime (pagetime? If you're reading this on a phone does it count as screentime?)  
> Anyway, enjoy my ramblings on Alteans and all the other supernatural creatures in whatever part of the East Coast I place these fools.

The sky looked more blue today. The trees also seemed to feel more colorful, showing the signs of fall steadily approaching. This was what Lance decided to focus on as he looked out the window of the car, rather than his mamá sitting beside him, who still had red, puffy eyes from past weeping. He focused on the way the light fell on the trees speeding by instead of the two strangers sitting in the front seat, the two very non human strangers driving the car to who knows where, with their pointy ears and weird face tattoos. He definitely wasn't going to pay attention to the fact that no one in the car was actually human - that his mom was just using the same, simple glamour that had hid her alien-like appearance from him and his siblings his entire life. 

He didn't have those same pointed ears, ones that heard the gentle rumble of the vehicle as it moved from asphalt towards gravel, signifying that they were almost at their destination. There were no strange, ocean blue markings on his once flawless body (he recalled that he used to take pride in that fact. Sorry Old-Lance, but it looks like your days of smiling at the Starbucks lady with your pretty smile is over - doubt many people are into wizards with weird face tattoos.) 

But now even the sky was of no comfort, because he had finally realized why it seemed brighter today - since his memories of his past had erased and haphazardly returned to his brain, this is the first time he can remember ever seeing the outside world.  
………………….

Sighing, Lance turned his attention to the large house that they had stopped at, before opening the door and stepping out into the sunlight. Behind him, Mamá had already opened the trunk grabbing two of his suitcases, something she must have packed beforehand. Out of the driver's seat, a tall, dark-skinned man with white hair walked over to Lance (he was pretty sure his name was Altor or something - he had only said his name once in the hour that he had met him) 

“How are you doing, Lance?” The man gave a sympathetic smile towards the young cuban, who responded back in a weak I'm-tired-but-don't-want-to-admit-it smile. “I'm alright, sir - just… still taking all of ‘this’ in.” Lance made a gesture towards his face, pointing towards his ears and markings, the signs of his newly awakened Altean heritage (it was Altean, right?) 

Chuckling, the older man placed a hand on his shoulder. “I understand, son. All of this information in such a short time is overwhelming, but trust me when I say that you will be fine.” Looking back at the house, he continued, “this house is the headquarters of your new team, as well as where you will live from now on. Although it's protocol to give you a few days off of training to adjust, I recommend that you look over this.” He placed a good-sized pamphlet into Lance’s hand, with a title reading A Quick History Of Alteans. Placing the book into his pocket, the group of four approached the house. 

The fourth member of their group, a white haired woman with yellow markings (was her name Haggar?), reached into her purse and pulled out a set of keys to unlock the door. However, as soon as the door was open, a red haired middle aged man ran past the door, wearing an apron and holding a flaming tray of some unidentifiable substance. “ALLURA, WE MIGHT HAVE A SMALL PROBLEM WITH THE BROWNIES…” the middle aged man shouted, unaware of the open door. The quartet only watched as a dark skinned, white haired woman ran to him holding a large wad of paper

“Um, just… just put it in the sink or something, Coran!” Allura frantically yelled back, pulling a roll of tape from the paper wad. Tearing off a piece, she began to hang up a corner of the paper. “Make it quick though, Coran - father will be here any moment with th - OH MY GOODNESS!” She shrieked, making eye contact with the newcomers in the doorway. 

Slowly, unsure of how they should react, the leader of the region’s Alteans slowly closed the door, blocking the group of four from the chaos inside. After about a minute, he slowly opened it up again, revealing the two Alteans, smiling anxiously under a now unraveled banner that simply read Welcome!!! In Coran’s hands was a half eaten pan of leftover lasagna, with a lit candle sticking out of the top. Just the sight of his two new teammates caused Lance to suppress a laugh. 

Showing a grin, Alfor (THAT was his name!) walked in with Lance in tow, dragging him in by the arm. “Well, while we did get an… interesting introduction, I'm glad to see the two of you.” Letting go of Lance, Alfor reached out to give a hug to his daughter, “especially you, my dear Allura.”

Squeezing back, the young woman showed a genuine smile to both of the newcomers. “I'm glad to see you too, father,” she replied, voice containing a slight European accent, “As well as our new member of the Garrison Altean Patrol - um, what was your name again?”

“The names Lance,” he replied, smiling at Allura. “And might I add that you are looking lovely today.” 

He couldn't help it - when the young woman wasn't running around the house in a panicked frenzy, he was able to observe her natural beauty. Besides, something about gaining her affection seemed… right. This might be what Haggar meant when she talked about eventually ‘regaining his old characteristics’ - he was probably a big flirt in his old life. 

Chuckling in amusement, Allura turned her attention to Mrs. McClain, who was bringing her son’s suitcases into the foyer. “I can help you with those bags, miss,” she offered, walking over to grab a suitcase out of her hands. Smiling, the Cuban woman accepted the help, and followed the Altean up towards the staircase across the living room. 

“While your room is being fixed up, how about I introduce you to your team leader, Coran?”  
Alfor turned his head towards the ginger, who was cutting out a piece of the lasagna, which still had the candle in it. Looking back into the living room, he introduced himself, voice having a similar accent. “Hello, Lance! Would you care for a snack?” He held out a plate, which Lance accepted. 

After everyone had gotten a plate, the Alteans gathered around a table in the dining room - save for Haggar, who was still busy making a potion of some sorts (something to help Lance get his memories back quicker, she had explained earlier.) After finishing his plate, Coran looked over at Lance. “So Lance, I'm going to assume that Alfor already told you the ins and outs of your new life here?”

Blushing, Lance hesitantly replied, “yeah, but I might have… forgotten a bit of it….” then again, it was both of the Alteans fault for telling him these kind of things while he was busy trying to remember how old he was. 

Unfazed, Coran quickly went to explaining his new job/life in the Altean community. “After you take the next few days off to adjust, we’re going to start basic training so that we can know what kind magic you can perform. Once we find that out, we can use your abilities to break you down and mold you into a true Altean, fit to battle an onslaught of one thousand werewolves!” Coran suddenly realized that he had been holding his hands in a fist ready for attack, and that Lance was starting to look a little nervous . “Not that you would ever need to face that kind of situation, necessarily, but it helps to be prepared! Once we know that you can hold yourself well in combat, you will officially become a part of this city’s patrol of Alteans, defending humanity from supernatural evildoers!”

“So, we're basically the magic police?” Lance was beginning to like the sound of his new life as an Altean.

“Exactly, my boy! Together, the three of us will be unstoppable!”

Alfor chuckled at the sight of the two getting along - it was important for teammates to have good relationships with their leaders, and it didn't look like that would be a problem for Lance. In fact, it almost seemed like the girls were done fixing up his room a little too soon. 

“Sorry we took so long, guys! Mrs.McClain just had a LOT more photos of their family than I originally thought, and it would seem like a shame not to help her hang them up.” Allura sighed and looked over at Lance. “If you wish to settle in now, we understand - it's been a long day for you.”

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” he stretched his arms before walking over to his mom to say goodbye - she and the other two Altean officials would likely be going soon, her to his old house and the others back to their offices. Afterwards, she hadn't planned to visit for another month - Alfor had said it was to help him get adjusted to his new roommates. 

Hugging her, he walked over to the staircase, only to be interrupted by Haggar. “You almost forgot your medication - drink a cap full once a day to help speed along the restoration process” 

“Thanks Haggar,” Lance took the vial of navy liquid and walked up to his room while the other Alteans kept talking around the dining room table. It was easy to find his room - the door was open and the walls were full of pictures from his old room, including all of his siblings and a good deal of aunts, uncles, and cousins. The bed was also comfortable, as it helped him succumb to sleep almost instantly.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke up suddenly, laying on a metal table. It was cold. Cold. Dark. Fear. Fear. Cold. Noise. Where's the noise? Where was he? Who was he? He didn't know. He didn't know anything. Nothing. Not even his name - that should be important. Important. A word flashed in his head. Scatterbrained. He didn't know what that meant, but it accurately described his current situation. Memories. Knowledge. They were rapidly resurfacing from some unknown source, returning to where they belonged. Remember. Recollect. Those were what he meant. Return. Relearn. Relive. Bright Bright BRIGHT LIGHT. 

He used his hand to shield the light hanging inches from his face. As he leaned up, he could see 3 people in front of him - two women and a man. One woman looked right at him, tear filled eyes staring into his own. He looked back at her - he knew her. She was important. Good. Love. Kind. He knew everything about her, but for the love of God he couldn't remember her name. As she stared at him, she broke down in sobs and attempted to reach out for him, only to be held back by the man. “Mi hijo, Lance!” She cried out. 

Mamá. She was his mother. And he was Lance - that was his name. Lance McClain, son of Caroline and Michael McClain, lived in Garrison Ohio, had 3 sisters and 4 -  
“Lance, can you hear me?” The dark skinned man asked. 

It took Lance a few seconds to reply, but he eventually nodded his head before asking another question. “Um…. where am I? And who are you two?” 

The older man sighed before adjusting the lamp so that Lance could see more clearly. Now that Lance could see him, he was finally able to conclude that he must be on some kind of meds, because there is NO way those people have pointy ears and some kind of glow in the dark face paint. “Lance McClain,” spoke the large alien-looking man, “it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Alfor Arus, Head of the Ohio Altean Committee. And you, Lance, are about to hear something you should have learned a long time ago…”

\-----------------------------

EET EET EET ETT. A loud blaring shook Lance from his sleep. Looking over, he saw that it was just his alarm clock, reading that the time was 8:00. Great. Apparently the Elf Police like to wake up at the crack of dawn, something that he will have to get used to. Thankfully, Lance had gone to bed earlier than usual (or what he assumed was usual…) and wasn't that tired. Kicking his legs over the side of the bed, he made his way out into the hallway so that he could find a bathroom - he was already awake, so he might as well get ready. 

Lance immediately felt better when he stepped into the shower. He didn't know why, but the constant water running over him felt… good. Normal. As he was rinsing off some fruity shampoo, images of the lake raced through his memory; him making sandcastles with small children - his siblings, running through the waves as a kid, holding his mom's hand. Huh - guess being in the shower triggered something in himself. Water was something Lance enjoyed feeling. It was comfortable and an important part of his life. So comfortable in fact, that he didn't hear Allura calling him for breakfast until she was pounding on the bathroom door. 

\--------------------------

Breakfast was nice - well, sort of nice. Coran tried to make omelettes for each of the Alteans. Tried is a key word here, because soon after Lance began eating, he learned a very important fact about Coran - he can't cook. 

“Don't worry about the food, Lance,” Allura spoke, observing his not-so-subtle disgust. “There's some of that lasagna in the fridge that you can reheat later.”

“He doesn't need to reheat anything, Allura!” While the redhead tried to sound cross, he sounded more upset than anything. “Just because you aren't a fan of my culinary skills doesn't mean Lance isn't.”

“Coran, no offense or anything, but this is the first breakfast I can remember and I still know that I have had better food.” Allura began to chuckle, and Lance reached out for a high five, which she accepted. 

Coran huffed, then began to gather the others plates of unfinished eggs. “Allura and I are going to be out today - some case of a werewolf attack. We’ll be back with dinner at 6, but we also have leftovers for lunch if you get hungry.” 

Allura tossed him a white box while she gathered her things. “Your mom gave this to you - our number is on the fridge if there's an emergency.” Lance was opening the box as the two Alteans gave their farewells and walked out the door. 

Huh - his mamá bought him a new phone. Guess something happened to his other one. Lance stood still, anticipating a flashback to give some explanation, but nothing happened. Of course. Right when he wanted some kind of answer, his brain couldn't provide. 

“Even though you will regain most of your old memories,” Haggar told him as he looked around the room, the Druid making sure that his resurgence process was going well, “No Transfer has ever remembered the last moments of their past life - I doubt it will be any different for you.”

As his memories came back, Lance still secretly hoped for an explanation for whatever vague reason he had to be hospitalized for a week, before promptly having his life taken away. That was literally all he could remember - he had been injured, possibly to the point of death, and it was from supernatural origin; Alteans don't get involved in human crime. Lance glanced over at the half eaten dishes. Well, if that's all he has to go from, then Lance could have choked on Coran’s cooking and nearly suffocated. 

Grey images flash through his head, catching him off guard. He could barely find the couch in the living room before the memories began to slowdown, playing out a scene from Lance’s past. 

\---------—--------

The scene was gray, devoid of much emotion. It was at Lance’s old high school - Garrison Central, he thought it was called. Fall break had just started as teenagers ran out to meet with friends, find their cars, or catch a bus. Lance was walking beside another man, one with a darker skin tone and a larger body. They both walked towards a car in the parking lot, a shorter woman hopping into the driver’s seat. “Hey /////////, do you have the goods?” 

Lance was sure she had said a name, but whatever she had said seemed to come out as static, completely unreadable. The darker male looked towards the driver of the car as he took off his backpack, hopping into the passenger seat. “Heck yeah I got the goods,” he spoke, before sliding a paper plate covered in tin foil out of the backpack in front of him. Once he lifted a corner up, a fresh batch of cookies could be seen on the plate. 

“Aw yeah, ///////! I knew I could count on you and your mad kitchen skills!” Lance heard himself whoop, obviously giddy in anticipation of a later event. What was it they were doing again? Some kind of movie marathon at the girl’s house? He was about to ask when he felt himself slip out of this memory and back into the present… 

\-------------------

Shaking his head, Lance leaned up against the back of the couch, trying to remember where he was. Lance had been recollecting memories since day one of this thing, but completely being out of it was something new. Who were those people? His mom had told him that he hadn't talked to many people at his old school, preferring to be alone. But the longer Lance thought about it, the more confused he was - every bit of his personality he had seen since he had been woken up told him that he was really outgoing - how had he not made a single friend in the three years he had attended high school? 

Just thinking about it made his head hurt. Actually, trying to remember it at all sent a wave of ache through his skull. Getting off the couch, Lance walked over to a nearby table, where he had set down that one booklet Alfor had given him. Well, if Lance was going to entertain himself, he might as well do something useful. 

\--------------------

He had just finished the section on the Alteans elemental powers when he heard the door open. Making his way over to greet them, Lance was suddenly stopped in his tracks by a floating coat. 

As in the coat was floating. By itself.

He refrained from screaming as Allura shoots him a quick glance before him a smile. “Hey Lance! How life in HQ?”

“I-It was alright…” Lance kept staring as the dark colored Altean flicked her hands over the assortment of knives she had attached to her belt, tattoos flaring as she did. Immediately, they floated up from her belt and into a hall leading towards the training basement. Allura shot Lance a confused look, before realizing what he had been looking at. “Oh right! You haven't seen an Altean use their levitation before, have you?

Shaking his head, Lance suddenly remembered the list of general powers that the Alteans had, such as telekinesis. “Come with me, then,” she replied, grinning, “I can start teaching you how to use it!” She dragged Lance down to the living room, eager to show him what it was like to have the the true powers of an Altean fighter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! The past few weeks have been hectic, but i finally have a chapter to show for it! For many people on both FF.Net and on Ao3, I’m going to get around to chapter 12 of This Is How The World Ends (it just might take a while…) For now, Happy Birthday Lance! And a quick question for the future of this fic, (also known as why must i be a multishipper….)  
> Hidge or Hunay?

“You know,” Lance shouted at his mentors in between breaths, still running from the oncoming wall of roaring flames behind him, “when you said we we’re gonna train, this wasn't what I was expecting!” Lance didn't wait to hear their reply, but instead jumping nearly five feet in the air when one of Coran’s flames nearly scorched his hair. 

Through the window of the observation deck above, both of the older witches looked over him. Allura was adjusting a panel of controls, preparing the next “exercise,” while her mentor monitored the first one. Coran was controlling the large wall of fire below, flicking his wrist every so often to keep the flames from actually hurting Lance - should such an instance occur, the flames could easily be dispelled - while keeping him on edge. After all, Elemental magic wasn't just a skill one trained - it was an instinct, a natural reflex written in the trio’s DNA alongside kicking and running in the face of danger. 

“And of course,” Coran had said earlier, back when Lance had been changing into a more battle-ready outfit, “where better for us to find your Element than out in the battlefield.” 

The “battlefield” was the large training room that resided underneath the Garrison Headquarters, which was roughly the size of a football field. Inside, most of the walls were lined with an assortment of weapons used both on the job and strictly for training purposes. An array of maces and gauntlets could be seen on one side, while shotguns and pistols sat in a rack right beside it. The entire room seemed extremely high tech, and when Lance had asked about how on earth the alteans payed for it, Coran just insisted that they had “a little help” from some sponsors. 

Before Lance could learn how to use said weapons, though, both of his teammates agreed that he needed a better (or an actually existent) grip on his magic. The first step to that of course, is to find out what his magic can do. After being forced to run through Allura’s high speed winds and a simulated earthquake, still no magic had appeared. 

Which lead Lance into this situation. 

“Everything has to start from somewhere, Lance!” Coran shouted from the speakers imbedded in the training room walls. “On the bright side, at least we now know which of the four Elements you wield!” 

Allura took her hands away from the control panels and looked at Coran. “Great! I’ll go ahead and stop the water test then. I'll also need prepare some basic training exercises, something basic - like freezing a water bottle, or cont-”

“That's quite alright Allura, but we're going to continue on with the next test anyway” before she could argue, Coran reached across her shoulder and pressed a button, starting the test. As the doors in the arena began to seal themselves shut, Coran looked over to his partner and explained himself. “Yes, we may now know what his element is, but we don't yet know how strong his control of it is - just like building one's muscles, growing one’s magical abilities requires continuous practice of skills just above their limits.”

Coran shifted towards the window to watch the water begin to flood the training room. “So logically,” he finished, “We must first find his limits.”

Lance was starting to get nervous as the water quickly reached his hips. All of the exits had been sealed off, meaning that his life was resting on the abilities of whatever computer was turning this room into an olympic sized swimming pool. Sure, it was likely a military grade computer, but it was still just a machine. What if it got possessed or something? One wrong move, and that computer could freeze him into a Lancicle. Lance was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the ever rising water until it was already at his chest. 

As an added fact, he might not remember how to swim. Great - he might just drown on his first day of training. 

Thankfully, swimming seemed to be one of the few things he remembers, and Lance quickly began to tread water as he began to be swept off the floor. He made his way to the entrance in an attempt to find an exit, then promptly dove under. The door was easy to find, but nothing budged, no matter how hard he pulled. By that point, the water had risen almost 14 feet, and he was nearly exhausted. Lance was doomed. That ice cold feeling encasing his body, flooding his chest, was likely the beginning of hypothermia. 

But Lance McClain would be darned if he didn't do anything to stop it. 

The cold rush through his body only intensified as Lance pushed himself to the surface. As his lungs began to burn, all of that rushing energy swarming through his body started to gather towards his hands, turning them numb. A pulling sensation began to pinprick both of his arms, and in an act of desperation, Lance grabbed on to that feeling and pulled hard. 

In a split second, Lance was speeding upwards through 4 feet of water, pushed up by the very waves that had been drowning him before. Flying high into the remaining air, he felt himself push away the cold, causing it to disperse into the outer edges of his hands. As he fell back, Lance felt himself brace for a rough re-entry into the pool.

What he didn’t expect, though, was to be caught by Allura. “Careful there Lance - you could have broken something.”

The Cuban teen quickly jumped out of her arms, only to slip on a patch of ice. Ice? Lance shifted his head around the room, and took in the sight around him. The entire room had been frozen solid - the water pumps sealed off with ice. Allura seemed to using her air powers to levitate slightly off the ground, which explained how she wasn't slipping. As she helped Lance into an upright position, an eruption of steam could be seen from where the door would be located, followed by a burst of flames. Coran walked behind the fire, guiding it towards the center of the room in an attempt to create a makeshift pathway. “The Heating Systems will get the rest of the room cleaned up, but I’d rather the two of you not catch a cold,” The older male gestured towards the makeshift ramp to the exit, “we can train again tomorrow - for now, get some rest.”

Once they were both on the stairwell, Allura looked back on Lance. “That was amazing! I was sure you we’re going to bend the water to get towards the surface, but freezing over the entire pool? Even I was surprised, and I formed a miniature vortex during my test!”

Lance, beaming with pride, quickly thanked her. “That was awesome and all, but please tell me that drowning me won’t become a daily thing?”

Allura chuckled at the idea. “No, don’t worry. Now that we know your Element, we can start building your control over your powers - bending water, freezing water bottles, simple stuff. On top of that, we will teach you basic fighting techniques, as well as marksmanship - a good witch never relies on their powers alone. Speaking of powers, we can get around to levitation, and maybe even shapshift….”

They both continued to talk about magic and training for the next hour, before Coran had them go to bed. (even though Allura was technically in her 20’s, apparently she still had a curfew…)  
That night, after Lance had taken his memory meds, (as he liked to call them…) he went to sleep quickly, dreaming of a large family by the lake, a floating water bottle, and some odd thoughts about two teens in a car.

\------------------

 

Two weeks later, Lance was feeling confident on his magical abilities. After a few rounds of daily training, he could now form a ball of water in midair, keeping it up with the pull of his magic. He had gotten around to freezing a water bottle, (multiple times, just to see which could create the biggest explosion) levitating small objects, and even basic shapeshifting. Using a portion of his energy, Lance could suck in his pointed ears, blur away his face markings, and look just like his human self. One afternoon, he had sat in front of a mirror for an hour in an attempt to gain some flashback. Sadly, they didn't come - oddly enough, Lance hadn't had a flashback since his first day at the headquarters. Oh well. At least Lance can fire a pistol now.

A tap on the shoulder brought Lance’s attention away from his breakfast and onto Coran. “Lance, given how quickly you have picked up your training, I think it's time you joined us on a mission.”

The brunette nearly spit out his oatmeal in surprise. “For real?! Like an actual save-the-world kind of mission mission?”  
Allura chuckled from across the table as she finished her bowl. “Of course Lance! You have made wonderful progress during our sessions, and both me and Coran agree that you are ready to take on this kind of task.”

Lance was beaming as he brought his bowl to the sink, excited for the day ahead. “So what are we doing? Watching a priceless magic relic? Investigate some fairy pranks?”

“Nonsense, Boy!” Coran laughed, “We’re going to catch a Werewolf!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had to do something for The Season 3 release! After this chapter I S W E A R to anyone reading This Is How The World Ends that I will post chapter 12 next! Other than that, please enjoy! 
> 
> Edit: I thought I could write an entire chapter after watching Season 3.
> 
> I was wrong

“Ack! Allura! That's my eye!” Lance flinched away from his teammate as she began rubbing her thumb lightly over his eyelid. It was late in the afternoon - turns out going on a mission still meant a morning of training. After a short few seconds, she lifted her hands away from his face, prompting him to look in the nearby bathroom mirror. 

His skin had taken on a more darker hue than its normal Latino color. Thick waves of dark hair coated his arms, and after feeling around his mouth for a second Lance could clearly feel fangs. Of course, his tattoos were gone, and his pointed ears had been scaled down, looking less elf like and more pressed back. Last but not least on his shapeshifting session, his once ocean blue eyes were now the color of cut amber. 

In other words, Allura had done a good job as disguising him as a werewolf. 

After Allura was done using her magic on herself, the two went downstairs to gather some weapons. Alongside a set of pistols and clips, Lance grabbed a large water bottle, just in case they were going to a pretty dry part of town. Allura had grabbed a pair of hand fans to aide in her air magic. When they got upstairs, Coran was packing his own bag, filling it with a gun, a bottle of gasoline, and for some odd reason a old stopwatch. 

When the older man turned to face him, Lance was a little shocked. While Lance had thought his own face was convincing, Coran looked exactly like a real werewolf. Even though his skin was still white, it was still held an unnatural tan, one that was customary of the species. The eyes were more orange than golden, but that only made them look more natural, fitting perfectly with all of the orange hair. Guess Coran was better at shapeshifting then he expected. 

“Ah, you're both ready! I hope your ready for your briefing of the mission, because boy is it going to be a fun one!” Coran pulled out a tablet and began swiping, bringing up a document. “Over the past two months, reports have been filed into the Garrison Police talking about sudden cases of missing people, with little to no evidence on how they disappeared. Similar cases have been occurring in Arus City for few months, though, creating the possibility of a much larger case. 

After a quick lookover by the Alteans, though, we have connected the victims based on two facts - they all appear to be in their late teens to mid twenties, and all have associated with either the Balmera Pack or the Blade of Marmora. ”

“Um, not to be rude, Coran, but what are those groups? I don't think they were in the book…” Lance asked, raising his hand like a child as he interrupted the older man’s speech. However, Coran looked more impressed than offended. “Good eye, Lance. That kind of intuition for piecing together incomplete information is going to be important in this line of work.”

“These organizations are nothing to be wary of boy - in fact, some of the members are friendly people, such as some of the allies that we’re going to meet tonight! The Balmera are the local pack of werewolves, and are occasionally used as inside sources of the supernatural crime in the area. The Alpha family is actually quite nice - used to be pretty close back in my youth. The Blade, however, are the local vampire clan. While they are known to be more seclusive, they also respect both human and altean law, so they aren’t normally a hassle for us.”

“Gotcha!” said Lance. “So the victims are all pretty young-ish, and are either vampires or werewolves… and given how well knit you make these people sound, it doesn't seem likely that they just decided up and go oneday out of the blue....”

“Meaning that the logical explanation,” Allura thought aloud, “is that they were kidnapped!”

“Exactly!” Shouted Coran, pointing a finger in the air, “But, that also means that whoever we're dealing with is going to be tough to catch - there's no way those kids went without a fight, so our culprit is either very strong, or very cunning….

Anywho, both the Alteans and a some of our inside aides has tracked a possible suspect down to a cluster of hangouts in the shopping centre - a local occult club, to be exact. If our sources are correct, another kidnapping is set for tonight, where we shall finally find this fiend and enact justice!”

“Yeah!” Both Allura and Lance shouted in unison, high-fiving each other and Coran. The elder witch began to grab his bag and make his way to the front door. “I’ll be sitting in a back booth with our contacts to keep an eye on you two, while Allura will set up these traps and cameras for use on the kidnapper.”

While they walked out the door and into a silver minivan parked in the driveway, Lance suddenly realized something. “Wait…then what do I do?!”

…………………………………….

He was the bait. Of freaking course he was.

Strobe lights flew around the dark dance floor of the Lunar Eclipse, covering the entire room with a blueish-purple hue. Coran was chatting with a pair of customers, a white haired, dark skinned male and a tanned woman with blonde dreadlocks. At first glance, they - along with everyone else in the club - looked like normal human partygoers. But after a long look, the customary unnatural tan and glowy eyes that marked lycans. Sprinkled around here and there were the unnaturally pale vampires, some getting a drink from the bar while others danced in groups on the dancefloor. 

The sound of a scooting chair caused the Cuban teen to jolt, looking at the blonde stranger sit down next to him. “So, you're the new guy, right?” She asked, smiling with her sharp teeth afterwards. 

“Yep,” he chuckled, “The name’s Lance - and who might this fine lady be?”

The werewolf chuckled before looking back at Coran’s booth. “Most people call me Nyma, but to you, I'm Already-Taken. Nice try though, buddy - it takes guts to flirt with a Lycan.”

“Well, I appreciate the compliment,” Lance chuckled, “but now you're making me nervous to look for other options. Especially that dude.” He pointed to a werewolf sitting at the bar, with dark hazel skin and light brown hair, complete with a blue fedora. “He’s looking like my type of guy.”

“Ew, that kid with the funky hat?” Allura piped up, walking up behind them. Looking at her slightly caved in bag, she was likely done setting up the equipment. “He honestly looks like an arse to me”

Lance nearly spit out his drink. “I'm sorry, did you just use some form of fancy swear, Allura?”

The elder Altean chuckled, before giving Lance a light punch in the shoulder. “Go dance, you dork. You need to act convincing, remember?” Grinning, she pulled the teen up, before walking with him to the dance floor. 

The fast paced music helped keep Lance in the mood to dance, because boy was he gonna move. He must have been pretty great, because right after the first song, he gained the attention of fedora guy - five minutes later, and the Altean has his number. 

After a few songs, though, he was soon reminded of his true purpose. Along the back of the dark club, a figure slowly walked across the rows of tables, carrying what seemed like a large bag with him. However, a few quick movements from the bag told all Lance needed to know about its contents. Signaling Allura, the two began to pace towards the entrance, the young woman contacting Coran as they walked.

But, it turns out, not even their power walking was subtle enough, for the dark figure suddenly took off in a sprint. Before Lance could even get near the criminal, he was already out the door and into the streets. “No!” He shouted, feeling heartbroken for the victim inside that poor bag, before a pull from Allura dragged him closer to the Altean. 

Then, time began to stand still. 

Every partygoer was frozen in dance, seemingly stuck in a perpetual rave. The music had cut out, but the DJ still had all hands on the system, as if he was still catering a crowd. The only movement in the room came from the release of Allura’s hand against his own, and the deep breaths coming out of his teacher, who was standing right behind the two. 

Looking behind him, Coran had reverted to his normal look, ears and tattoos included. He was entirely still, holding the stopwatch tightly in his fist. It's tiny hands stood still - almost as if it was broken. “You have two minutes,” he hissed through his teeth, “Go!!”

…………

Both of the Alteans had abandoned their disguises, and ran through the crowded streets of Central Garrison. Of course, this wasn't extremely difficult, given that everyone was frozen in time, standing in the middle of whatever activity they had been doing prior. Lance had ran nearly a block and was panting in front of a Walmart by the time Allura had shouted “Right there!” at the street ahead. Inside of an alleyway, the same shady man could be seen frozen with the victim, heading inside. The young witches made a final dash towards the kidnapper, only feet away when they realized that their two minutes were almost up. In the middle of running, a frozen woman started power walking out of a store - crashing into Lance along the way.

Ok, so maybe those two minutes were already up…

All around them, people started reanimating, causing a wall of shoppers to form between the two. Allura quickly turned around to see if Lance was ok, before realising that the kidnapper was now also unfrozen. Lance turned his head and shouted “Go, I’ll meet you in a sec!” before Allura was blocked by the wave of shopping pedestrians. Thankfully, Lance saw a gap in the crowd, and made a mad dash towards it.

Out of the supermarket, though, a buff, extremely pale man walked out with his groceries, and ran into Lance. The teen looked up to apologize, but was taken back for a second when he looked at his face. It was definitely unusual - most people didn’t have black and white hair, especially people who were looked right out of college. But it wasn’t just that - something about it seemed… familiar… That same something must’ve been seen by the stranger, because his expression had changed from angered to something resembling… recognition?

A scream from Allura grabbed Lance’s attention. He had a job to do. Muttering a quick sorry, he ran away from the ghostly looking stranger from another time, and shoved his way towards his fellow Altean. He didn't look back to see the stranger reach out to him, calling his name. 

That didn't matter though - Lance needed to bring justice to Garrison, and that meant catching this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, the Hidge or Hunay thing is still in debate, though Hunay looks to be the winner.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, Well….. I lied. This scene ended so suddenly that in hindsight, it seemed like i cut it off so shortly. Plus, I honestly felt like working on this more than TiHtWE. (mostly because this is being started in a public area…..) I think that i'll get back to it after this chapter, mainly because it's been a month (a few months) since i’ve touched it. (except for a daily reminder to myself telling me to “Do It You Fool!”) also, i'm gonna go ahead and choose Hunay for the ship of the story (which will be investigated to an extent

Allura hit the wall with a crack, as the mysterious figure made a kick to her chest. To be honest, she didn’t expect the black clothed man to be so hard to fight - a personal indicator that this might not be a human. Oh well - just meant that this would be longer than she thought. Without thinking, the witch gave a sharp kick in the fiend’s general direction, sending a strong gust of wind towards his direction. The man flew back, hitting the brick wall opposite of hers.

Another swipe towards his bag sent the victim flying deeper into the alleyway. Allura looked towards the ground and realized that the teenage Were would be flung into the concrete below. Looking away from the fight, she grabbed a trashed mattress and hurled it underneath the duffel bag, which landed with a soft thud. 

This took about 3 seconds, but was enough time for a punch to hit her in the jaw, and for her head to be thrown into a headlock. She tried to send a gust towards his legs, sweeping him off his feet, but was unsuccessful. At this point, her captor appeared to be trying to suffocate her, tightening his grip on her neck. The only thing Allura could do now was aim punches towards her captor as she began to choke.

It was a stroke of luck, then, that Allura herd a small object whizz by overtop of her, and impale the man’s arm. With a howl, the figure released her, giving her enough time to cough and catch her breath, glancing up at the looming figure above her. From his arm, a chunk of ice was jutting out, blood seeping from the wound. Both of them turned to the source of the attack - a brown teen, and a bottle of water floating right by him. 

Allura gave a grin to Lance - looks like this job will be a whole lot shorter. 

In a matter of seconds, Allura had shot up from the ground and carried a sharp gust of wind towards the wall of a building. Just as soon as that happened, two large needles of ice had been formed from the water bottles floating at Lance’s sides. A quick flick of the wrist and pull of energy in his veins flung the icicles towards their destination

All in all, it probably took 30 seconds for the duo to pin the figure to the wall, the icicles securing themselves into the brick with a crack - along with the sleeves of their shirt. To be honest with himself, Lance knew that the trap was faulty - the bulky man could easily break free by tearing his sleeves off, and suffer little to no injury. Guess he was lucky, though - the figure apeared to be apprehensive about ripping the fabric. There’s likely something on his arms, Lance thought, something that could give away his identity. 

Noticing this, Allura ran over towards the bag, where the victim had been struggling to work the zipper free from the inside. Opening the bag with a quick zzzip, the witch quickly helped the teen out, while Lance had a handgun fixed onto the kidnapper. Once she was on her feet, Lance could easily tell that the poor victim was a girl that was roughly his age, with similar brown hair cut short around her head. She had a large frame, and a darker skin tone than his own. Even after her natural skin color, Lance could also quickly tell that some of its color - as well as a good deal of her bulk - came from the fact that she was a werewolf. 

A quick look at her golden eyes could confirm this, but soon Lance’s quick glance turned into a stare. It wasn't just at her eyes though - something about her face seemed familiar. While no specific memory about her could be recalled, various warm and pleasant feelings emerged within him just by looking at her face. 

Suddenly, something clicked inside of Lance’s head. She must've been someone he knew from Before - and not just a classmate that he saw once a while. This was a friend who he had known, a friend who likely knew him as well. Hell, for all he d knew, he was looking at his old Mrs. McClain. Kinda a shame that he got punched right in the head while looking at her, though, or he might've remembered her name. 

Lance felt himself slam on the concrete, knocking the air out of his lungs, the masked man looming above him. In seconds, a bullet had struck his arm - Allura holding a pistol in both of her hands. The figure howled once again, but didn't attempt to attack them. Instead, he seemed to be retreating, running into the busy street. It's likely that he could sense defeat, and was trying to avoid an inevitable arrest - or anything that could reveal his identity. 

Unfortunately for him, he couldn't avoid the latter. As he ran out of the alleyway, a lamppost illuminated all of the features that his dark outfit had tried to conceal. Lance almost had to do a double take when he looked at his wounds and on my God HIS BLOOD IS PURPLE! It wasn't only his blood though - looking at the shredded sleeves on his shirt, it was painfully clear that his skin was too. The glimpse of the man he managed to get all but confirmed that he was some sort of supernatural 

But judging on Allura’s equally surprised look, the only question now is which one is he?

Their thoughts were quickly interrupted by a loud shriek coming from the werewolf. When he turned around to see who was attacking her, though, he found no one - just a startled Allura and an angry teen, who was currently staring Lance down. 

“Oh my freaking God it IS you!” She shouted, marching straight up to the Cuban teen while staring him down. “Lance McClain, where the hell have you been?” Lance attempted to form some sort of reply, but after a few seconds she kept going. 

“Actually, don't tell me - I don't care. What I DO care about is why you've been missing for over a month! A MONTH LANCE! Hunk, Pidge, and you were in therapy for nearly that long after what happened with Shiro - how did you think they were going to react after you two left?” She got close to his face, until her nose was only inches away from his. “Hunk DIED the night you and Keith went missing, and if you two don't come home right now then I'm go-”

She stopped mid sentence, halting instantly. In a second, her expression changed from determined rage to something akin to horror. Slowly, Lance saw her eyes drift away from his own, and focus into his ears and cheeks, marked with the signs of his Altean heritage. “N-No…” she stammered, before taking a step back. “Y-You can't be…”

Her eyes turned cold, and began to tear up. “Y-You're one of them now…?” Surprising Lance again, she began to chuckle. “You don't even remember Keith, d-do you?” 

As he tried to remember a Keith, somewhere from his past life, she spoke again. “You don't even remember MY NAME, do you Lance McClain?!”

At this point, Allura thought it was best to intervene. “Ms.Balmara, we can give you a ride home to your family, if you wi-”

“No, there's no need Altean.” the werewolf replied softly, “They're already on there way here - I can smell them.” After taking a quick sniff in the air, she finally turned to face Allura. “They're almost here - I can take care of this by myself. Thanks for the offer, though.”

\-------------------

True to her word, The Alteans mainivan soon pulled up to the side of the road, screeching to a halt right in front of the blood stained alleyway. Almost immediately, a carload of adults piled out and ran straight towards them - all of them werewolves except for Coran, who followed behind a large man and a slightly heavier woman. Immediately, the teen ran up to her parents, who both hugged their daughter.

“Shay! Are you ok?!” They both cried. The werew - Shay, Lance corrected, began to assure them that she was alright. An image flew by in his mind - a grayscale picture of Shay, sitting by him and the two teens from before, as well as two other people. One seemed to be around his age, with one of the most cringe worthy hairstyles he had ever seen. However, he seemed to wear it well, and didn't look that ugly. But it was the last man that Lance was more focused on. 

Especially since it's hard to forget that kind of black and white hair on such a young person. The only thing different than tonight, thought, was the fact that his skin didn't look as pale in the past as it did in front of Walmart. A LOT less pale.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts, reminding him that he was in the middle of the street with a pack of werewolves. Coran was shaking him, trying to get his attention.

“Hey lad! Just wanted to congratulate you on your first mission going smoothly! Heck, when I was your age, I had to have a run in on a group of Incubi, and let me tell YOU-”

Allura, quickly sensing that this probably wasn't a good story to share in public, diverted Lance’s attention towards herself. “The Balmera Pack also wishes to thank you for saving Shay. They would tell you this themselves, but they have places they need to be.”

It was obvious that they didn't - the hushed whispers coming from the group of adults, as well as the silent looks of pity given in his direction told him that they wanted to leave for a completely different reason. It made sense, though - if he had known Shay, then it was likely that he knew her family as well. 

“Hey Lance!” Allura shouted, snapping him from his thoughts, “Since we’re done for the night, Coran says that we could go spend some time in town - do you care if we see a movie?”

Lance looked back at the Balmaras once more, before piling into the van with Allura. “Sounds great! I hear there's some new comedy that's pretty good!”

It was probably better to save his thoughts about the wolves for another night - for now, the past can stay in the past.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live

~~**Merry** **Christler** **!** **2018!** **Valentines Day? ;w; If you’re reading this im sorry**~~

  
  


If Lance had to be honest, the movie wasn't that great. Then again, anything that was titled “The Passion In Her Eyes” was bound to be horrible. But by the time the three had gotten to the nearby, run-down theater, it was the only movie that was still showing. It was some cheesy rom-com set in the 80’s, and only a handful of the audience seemed to show any interest whatsoever (most of which being women, likely mothers in their forties).

 

Coran had seemed really into it, though - by the end of the movie, when the obvious and cliche rush-into-the-airport scene had finally reached its climax, the elder witch had been in tears, staring at the screen with a face full of awe and wonder. Both Allura and Lance had to agree that his faces were probably the best part of the entire movie. So great, in fact, that they both now had a few photos stored on their phones of the entire ordeal.

 

The next stop on their night out had been a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant, something called the “Blue Moon,” which was every bit of a cheezy diner as the name suggested. The entire staff was furnished in a homage to classic fifties restaurants, compete with checkered tile floors and red leather booths. The only thing odd about it, though, would be that most of the staff and customers were (predictably) some form of supernatural entity.

 

After the two had sat down, a waitress soon came by to get their drink orders. To call her a waitress though, would be an insult to her true beauty. As he looked at her, Lance swore that he could see, even in the cheap lighting, her hair was shining and her skin glowed like diamonds. Those stunning, dark blue eyes looked at the trio and smiled. “Welcome to the Blue Moon! What can I get for you three?”

 

Already slightly giddy from staring at her, Lance knew what he had to do - use the most magical, most witty pick-up line he can think of. Looking into her eyes with what he believed to be a carefree, sexy and beautiful grin, he made his order before the others could have a chance to breathe.

 

“I’ll take a cup of coffee, cause I like you a Latte~”

 

It took both the woman and Coran what seemed like a massive amount of restaurant from immediately laughing - something that at the moment, it appeared that Allura didn’t have. The moment the dumb pun was uttered, she couldn’t help but laugh, lasting for nearly half a minute before she could give her order. Once the waitress had left though, the two were dying of laughter, while the poor teen looked confused.

 

“O-Oh God, I knew this was bound to happen,” Allura finally got out, “but this is even better then what I expected!”

 

“Well, what else was I supposed to say to her?” Lance defended, still confused, “She was pretty!”

 

As the laughter died down, Lance took the opportunity to look back at the waitress one last time, only to gape in shock at what he saw. It’s not like she suddenly looked ugly, because he still couldn’t doubt that she looked amazing. She just also looked….blue.  

 

As in her skin. It was blue. In a matter of seconds, it had gone from a creme color to a sky blue, while no one else seemed to bat an eye.  _ Thats it - Im going crazy.  _ All the poor teen could muster out was “Hh..how...what…?”

 

Amidst her chuckling, Allura turned to face a very dumbstruck Lance. “She’s a Fairy, Lance. Really, did you think you were going crazy?”

 

“To be fair, Allura, that's probably exactly what a human would think,” Coran interjected.

 

Staring more intently at the waitress, Lance could start to see more unnatural features about her that previously went unnoticed. Rather than being a golden blonde, her hair was a more light bluish-silver, which complemented her complexion nicely. Scattered about her arms and legs were small protruding fins, such as that of a fish. “So,” turning back to the others at the table, “She’s can shapeshift?”

 

“Close, but not quite,” Coran corrected. “Only Altean magic is strong enough to induce shapeshifting. While Fae Folk magic is powerful - just trust me on that one - it can’t work that powerfully.” As a different waitress came to bring the three their drinks, Coran took a sip of his coke, before resuming. “No lad, Fairies use glamors, illusions, to trick the brain into seeing what is mundane - what the brain wants to see, rather than what is seen by the eyes.”

 

The older man motioned for Lance to come closer, before facing his head back towards the kitchen, where a handful of women and men were cooking and cleaning. “Its fairly simple to see past a glamor, though. All you need to do is stop thinking about what you’re seeing, and let your eyes do the work.”

 

After getting a look of extreme concern for the older man’s mental health, Coran concluded that he probably needed to give a better explanation. “Whenever you look at something, you often take the time to think about its details - the way the sun hits a lake, the colors in the sky, and so on. Your brain takes the time to immerse itself with so much information, that you end up getting a beautiful, vivid image that only something so complex as the human mind can comprehend. However, this is where the poor fella’s fatal flaw comes in: the brain is too complex, to the point where it quite often can let small details in the world slip by, resulting in it seeing things that aren't there or ignoring the obvious. 

 

This, Lance, is what fae glamors thrive on - the ability to pull strings on such a mighty machine as the brain, convincing it to ignore obvious facts that are  _ sitting right in front of it!  _ That waitress up there was not a shapeshifter, because her skin was never caucasian to begin with - from the moment she walked up to us, it had been blue. You had just been the victim of a mere magic trick, fooled up until she herself decided that it was time to let the glamor drop, and reveal the truth to the audience.”

 

“Okay,” Lance responded, shuffling uneasily in his seat, “So if that waitress was poking around in my brain, how does that help me stop it in the future? How do I um….’De-complify’ my brain?!”

 

“That part, thankfully, is a bit more simple than most would think. The best way to look at an object, while completely ignoring it’s detail at the same time, is by putting it at the back of your mind and focusing on something else entirely. Keep your brain from making the subject complex, and let your instincts do the work.”

 

Coran then pointed towards the staff of the diner, still in the kitchen. “Now, look directly at the people at work, yet pay no mind to them at all. Stare them straight in the face, yet focus your mind entirely on another object. Let instinct simplify what the mind makes a in-depth image, Lance.”

 

Lance decided to try and make use of the middle-aged Wizard’s cryptic imagery, and tried to look directly in the direction of the staff. After a few seconds, he shifted his eyes from the busy people behind the counter towards a clock hanging right over the front desk. Slowly, he could barely see the people, trying to take into detail the hands moving on what seemed to be the shittiest clock he had ever seen - an old Star Wars one from the 80’s, shaped as Yoda’s pale, sickly green, now cracked face. However, a burst of color from below his line of sight brought his attention back down to the sta - um….

 

Lance had seen some odd things in his lifetime - including a cat with no legs, a dude with like 7 piercings on his nose, AND the blue fairy lady from a few seconds ago, thank you very much! A purple-haired, cat-eyed fairy with dragonfly wings on his back, though, was not something he was expecting to see since….ever, to be perfectly honest. Nor the chef with a beak where her mouth should be. Or the person at the register with snow white hair and patches of a bright orange shell scattered on his limbs, resembling a crab shell. The teen could only stare in amazement as he reached down to grab a gulp of his drink. 

 

Unfortunately, what seemed like a great pick-up line at the time soon came to be one of the worst choices he made that night, as Lance spat out his coffee, fanning his burnt tongue with one hand. This time it was Coran who snickered, while Allura offered a sip of her lemonade, which the teen graciously accepted. “Ignorance,” she started “is surprisingly one of the best ways to combat magic. You can’t alter one’s perception of an object when there is none to begin with. It’s the reason why animals and werewolves are immune to glamors.”

Looking back at the massive array of oddities back in the kitchen, all Lance could utter out was a small, still slightly confused “...Oh...Cool…”

  
  


                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As their burgers soon came out, the three started to change the topic of their discussion towards a more normal topic - specifically, the movie they had just been forced to watch. Of course, just as most discussions on fictional work that occur in this age, the three were soon faced into a heated debate.

 

“Coran, I hate to be rude to my good, dear old teacher of wizardry, but Laura would have been WAY better off with Sam!” While Lance’s face was not cruel, it was evident that he felt very passionately about the movie he had seen only a few hours before.

 

“But she and Kent were perfect for each other! They had amazing chemistry when they sang - it was magical and you know it Lance!”

 

Looking at the bickering duo, Allura sighed and munched on a french fry. “Is it just me, or would she and Hunter be a better pair?”

 

Both of the nearly grown men looked at her with surprise, almost as if insulted. “You mean that one guy from the beginning of the movie?” Lance questioned, “He’s a 6 out of 10 at best.”

 

“But it makes the most sense logicly! They’ve been friends since high school, while Laura only met Kent and Sam after she started working in New York!” Giving a slight glare towards Coran, she added “Plus, Hunter doesn’t have that god-forsaken mullet!!”

 

The two both exchanged grimaces, remembering the famous actor’s noteworthy haircut. “Alright, I’ll agree with you on that one,” Coran admitted, “I still can’t believe that on earth even considered that hairstyle to be a good idea!”

 

Lance, on the other hand, was beginning to feel lightheaded despite the positive atmosphere that was present among the others.  _ Was it something I ate…?  _ All of a sudden the room seemed to shift, causing the teen to suddenly stabilize himself on the table. Before the others could ask him what had happened, Lance stood up and made his way out of the seat, hurrying to the right saying “I need to go pee!” Soon, he was in the bathroom, locking himself inside as another wave of vertigo hit him.

 

Lance barely made it to the sink before he crashed down, the feeling of lightheadedness suddenly making his vision blur. Before he knew what was going on, the room around him began to flicker out of his vision, replacing itself with a newer, grey scenery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for leaving you on a cliffhanger, but I'm using that as motivation to post the next chapter on a more consistent basis. Also, if anyone wants to scream at me more, you can find me at https://thejollypiplup.tumblr.com/ Chapters might come sooner if i put my other fic, This is How the World Ends on a more extended hiatus, but that won't happen unless a majority of people aren't interested in it.


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